Flamingos Have Feelings
by alynwa
Summary: Alan meets a new transfer to the fourteenth floor.


Alan was having a good day that had been a while in coming. He had forgiven himself for getting over Gloria so quickly and he had finally gotten Lorraine out of his system. _Telling Denny about the woman who raped me took a large weight off my shoulders that I didn't realize was there. For all his nonsense, he truly is the best friend I've ever had._

It was noon on a Friday and Alan was finished with court for the day. He had been successful in getting a lawsuit against his client dismissed and he was looking forward to catching up on paperwork and reading law journals in his office. He stopped at the sandwich shop he and Denny favored and bought himself a shrimp salad hero. He declined the can of soda and chips that were included in the price of the sandwich. _I'll get a bag of pretzels and a bottle of water in the galley. I didn't suffer at that fat farm to gain weight again eating chips and drinking soda! *_

He stepped off the elevator on the fourteenth floor and headed toward his office. He stopped in the galley to grab what he needed to complete his meal and was immediately taken by a woman standing next to the microwave waiting for her food. "Hello," he said.

She turned to face him fully. "Hello," she replied.

Alan allowed his eyes to slowly roam up and down her body; she was about five feet seven with dark brown hair cut into a shoulder length bob and hazel eyes. "I haven't seen you before; my name is Alan Shore."

She reached out to shake his hand. "I've been at Crane Poole and Schmidt for about six months, but I was downstairs in Wills, Estates and Trusts until yesterday. I'm helping Shirley Schmidt with a case. My name is Kelly Morehouse. Nice to meet you, Alan."

"Yes, and why don't we make it even nicer: Join me for dinner tonight. You pick the restaurant, I'll bring the condoms. What do you say?"

Kelly's smile stretched a little wider. "I say thanks, but no thanks. You're not my type. However, if I'm ever in the market for a self – loathing, woman – objectifying, sexually perverted man – whore with a small penis with whom to have a one – night stand, I'll give you a ring. How about that?"

Alan's mouth had dropped open in the face of Kelly's calmly delivered verbal assault that cut him like a knife. Before he could respond, the microwave dinged.

"Saved by the bell!" she said gleefully as she retrieved her lunch.

Denny chose that moment to enter the galley. "Alan! Have you met Kelly? She's working on a case with Shirley."

"We've just met," Kelly answered, "Nice to see you again, Mr. Crane. Have a good afternoon."

"Thanks, and call me Denny!" he called after her as she walked down the hall. "Ooo, I bet she's a firecracker in bed." He watched her appreciatively before turning around to see the look on his friend's face. "Alan, you look upset. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he snapped as he turned and stalked off to his office.

Denny shrugged his shoulders and chalked it up to Alan's having a bad day in court. He was about to head in the opposite direction when he noticed that Alan's briefcase and sandwich were still sitting on one of the tables. _He probably got distracted by the new girl,_ he thought as he picked the items up to take to him. He grabbed two bottles of water knowing Alan probably wanted one.

When he got to his friend's office door it was closed, so he tucked the water against his body and opened the door without knocking. He was surprised to see Alan sitting at his desk, head in hands.

His head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, but when he saw who had entered, he turned quickly to the wall, but not fast enough that Denny couldn't see his expression.

"Alan, what's the matter? And don't tell me nothing's wrong, you look so unhappy! I'm your Flamingo: Talk to me. Please." He moved closer to the desk and placed Alan's lunch bag on it. "You left your food in the galley," he said as he put the briefcase on the side of the desk and sat.

"I've lost my appetite."

"Why?" Denny crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. His expression told Alan he wasn't leaving until he got an answer, so he began to tell the older man what had transpired between him and Kelly. When he finished, Denny huffed out, "That _bitch!_ She said your penis is small? Has she seen it? I'm going to give her a piece of my mind!"

"Denny, please don't."

"You're right, I can't afford to give any away. I know! I'll tell Shirley what Kelly said to you and _she'll_ give her a piece of _her_ mind!"

"I don't want you to tell Shirley or anyone else what I just told you, just leave it alone!" Alan pushed up from his chair and walked to the cabinet where he kept his scotch. He poured himself a shot and immediately swallowed it.

"I don't want to leave it alone, Alan! She slandered you!"

"Denny," Alan sighed, "we both know truth is the best defense to slander. What she said about me is true. Hearing it put quite that way just…hurt my feelings." He poured himself another shot. "I'll get over it."

"Alan…," Denny began, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He walked over to where the younger man was standing and put his hand on Alan's shoulder. "I have an idea, let's have our balcony time at my house in the suburbs and we'll have a sleepover." He saw the look on Alan's face and patted his back. "Don't say no; we haven't had a sleepover in over a month. You know you want one."

Alan smiled despite his melancholy. "Okay, Denny, you win. I'll meet you by the elevators at six."

"Good. See you later."

When the two friends got outside, Denny's chauffeur, Dave, was already at the curb. He jumped out to open the door. While he helped Denny into the car, Alan walked around and got in the other side.

When Dave pulled off and into traffic, Alan glanced over at Denny, smiled briefly and then shifted slightly so he could watch the scenery. Denny was loath to pour drinks from his limo's bar as he really wanted his cigar to go with it. _That Kelly witch really got under his skin,_ Denny thought.

When they arrived at the suburban house, Denny apprised his Major Domo, Rodeo, of Alan's presence and that they would be eating upstairs later that evening.**

Alan followed Denny upstairs to the master suite where they discarded their suits in favor of sweatpants and pullover shirts. They walked out onto the bedroom's balcony where a cooling and steady breeze was blowing gently. Denny poured their drinks and they passed a lighter back and forth to light their cigars. It was a testament to their friendship that these rituals were carried out mostly in silence.

They had finished their first drink of scotch and were each on the second when Denny decided to speak. "Alan, I know you said earlier that Kelly had hurt your feelings, but I don't understand why. Why were you hurt?"

The younger man leaned forward in his seat and placed his elbows on his knees. "I had a conversation with my therapist Joanna recently in which she told me that she thinks that the real me is disappearing while the misogynist in me is becoming all consuming. I…think she might be right. Kelly picked up on it somehow and threw it in my face. That's what hurt. I'm thinking that if someone I just met can see it, women I know must also. Sally, Tara…maybe that's why they left. They didn't want to be…demeaned and diminished by being associated with the likes of me." He could feel his face getting warmer and he looked away from his companion.

Denny stared at him for a few seconds. "No, that's not quite it."

"I beg your pardon?"

The older man slurped his scotch. "Beg all you want, but what you just said doesn't cut it with me. Something else is bothering you." He puffed on his cigar as he pondered his friend's predicament. "I know! It's Phoebe!"

Alan's face turned into an unreadable mask. "Why would you think that? She's happily married to her husband."

"So, she claims," Denny sneered, "He's the 'leading cardiologist in the city' she kept telling us. Over and over again. At first, I thought she was bragging about him to let you know that she did all right after splitting from you."

Alan swallowed the rest of his drink and poured another. "And now, you have a different opinion?"

"Yeah, I do. She was trying to convince _herself_ that staying with that jerk is what she needs to do!"

"And, why would she do that?"

"For her children, Alan! Just like she told you! Marriage is different when children are involved! I personally can't imagine any of my ex – wives choosing to stay with me once the marriage went south, but there were never any children involved."

"Perhaps you're right, Denny, but…" Alan's voice trailed off as he ran a hand through his hair and looked like he wanted to be anywhere except where he was. "She said to me, that maybe she should dump him, run away with an old boyfriend and start over. I thought she was finally admitting it was a mistake to be with him and I went to kiss her, but she rejected me." Denny was astonished to see Alan's face twist with emotion. "Don't you understand, Denny? I was willing to take her _and_ her children! And she turned me down _knowing_ her husband is a murderer who _cheated on her!_ " He leaned forward and put his left hand to his eyes, but not before Denny saw tears overflow. "What, what does that say," Alan gasped out as he tried to hold back sobs, "about _me?_ "

Denny slid his chair in front of Alan's and tried to pull the smaller man to him. When he felt resistance he said, "It's just me, Alan, it's just me. It's all right. You don't have to hide your tears from me. Ever. It's all right, come here."

This time when he tugged, Alan came willingly and laid his head on Denny's shoulder. He cried softly as the older man rubbed his back and murmured, "It's okay. Let it out, it's just me," over and over until he heard Alan stop. They stayed in the same position for a few moments more until Alan hugged Denny tightly and then released him before sliding back into his chair.

"What that says about _you,_ " Denny continued the conversation as if it had never been interrupted, "is nothing at all. What is says about _her_ is that she is a crazy bitch! She must be! Remember how smug that bastard husband of hers looked when she walked into your office and took his hand? When she left with him…If I were thirty years younger, I would have punched him in the face and told her she was a fool to leave a good man in the dust to stay with that sleaze ball!"

Alan gave Denny the look he had grown to love: Wide – eyed affection with a hint of wonder. "You, you think I'm a good man, Denny? That I could be a good husband?"

"Hell, yes. I may marry you _myself_ one day!"

Alan guffawed at that. "Oh, thank you, Denny, for making me laugh! I needed that!"

Denny joined him and they both had a good laugh. "So," Denny said, "are you feeling better?"

"I am, actually. In fact, why don't we go inside and call Rodeo to tell him we're ready to eat?"

Denny stood. "After you, my friend." He followed Alan back into the bedroom.

Two weeks later, Denny was strolling through the fourteenth-floor hallways ostensibly making sure the associates were hard at work, but he was just strolling with no agenda. He saw Shirley seated at her desk and marched into her office.

"Denny! What can I do for you?"

"You could have sex with me."

"I'll pass, thank you."

"Okay. So, you can tell me how that case that Kelly girl is helping you with is going."

"It's over. The judge ruled against us."

"Was she very helpful?"

Shirley waggled her hand. " _Meh,_ not really. She didn't bring as much to the table as I had hoped."

"Oh, good. Fire her."

"Isn't that a bit harsh? I sent her back downstairs."

"Shirley, I want her gone. I have my reasons. I'm asking you to do it because when you Schmidt – can someone, it's blunt, but not actionable. If _I_ do it, it might cause the firm problems. Remember, I fired someone because she was fat."

"Oh, I do remember." She stared at him for a few seconds. "Okay, Denny. I'll cut her loose by close of business. I wasn't that impressed with her, anyway. Now if that's all, I really have to get back to work."

"That's it. Thanks, Shirley," he said as he left her office. Walking back to his side of the floor he thought, _Hurt my flamingo's feelings and think there are no consequences, will you? Not as long as my name's on the door!_

*ref. my story "Living Healthy"

**ref. a recurring OC first mentioned in my story "Rodeo"


End file.
